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| BFH in AZ 2019 |
As often happens in dreams, I was heroic - pointing out anomalies to her trusted doctors, consulting with spiritual advisors like Dr. Todd, the imposing, impossibly old pastor of my youth, and finally looking for a plant that grew in the brackish water at the base of a huge water wheel.
It’s been a year - 12 months - since the calls from a Coudersport number I recognized as Cole Manor reached me in Arizona and this September, I was in Arizona again, half expecting that number to show up on the phone when it rings, while at the same time, knowing it wouldn't.
I woke up today, opening my eyes to a gray morning, just as I had reached the spot on a precipitous cliff under the waterwheel, ready to plunge to the depths to find the magic elixir.
1 comment:
Dr. Todd was a tall imposing old man with a shock of white hair and a deep gravelly voice. My cousin Marcia was afraid of him and called him the White Man. He was very influential in my family since at the time we were all good Presbyterians. When I was looking for a college, we narrowed it down to Princeton and the College of Wooster. Dr. Todd was a graduate of the latter school, and that's why it wound up at the top of the list. Princeton was very expensive and offered no financial aid, but Wooster knocked 50 bucks off the tuition, so off I went to Ohio. That choice was a wise one--I was a country boy and a year younger than my classmates and I think I would have been very unhappy at Princeton. As it was, I found my friends and peers and got a very good education. So thanks, Dr. Todd!
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